


invisible ink

by underwires



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwires/pseuds/underwires
Summary: Among all the people in the universe, Hermione Granger was the last person Viktor Krum expected to walk into his tattoo studio.When the doorbell chimed and his old schoolmate entered his pristinely clean space, Viktor knew Hermione wouldn’t be in his studio without a proper reason.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83





	invisible ink

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i've had this idea for a while so here we are!  
>   
> comments and kudos are appreciated. enjoy!  
> 

Among all the people in the universe, Hermione Granger was the last person Viktor Krum expected to walk into his tattoo studio. 

When the doorbell chimed and his former schoolmate entered his pristinely clean space, Viktor knew Hermione wouldn’t be in his studio without a proper reason. 

“I’d like to get a tattoo,” she says. 

Now, Viktor knows there had to be a darn good reason why their paths crossed again. 

It’s not that he’s averse to the idea of the most beautiful girl he’s ever known to ask him to ink her with a delicate feather tattoo. 

It’s not the fact that she’s looking at him so intently, quite nervous, but she listens aptly as he explains the process so that she understands the most obvious thing about getting a tattoo—it is permanent. 

He had no appointments for the day and he was curious if she knew that. 

But he was glad she was here, asking about the one thing that he appreciated the most. 

She’s asking about the scale of pain and if it would be like a consistent annoyance on her skin while the needle poked it with the ink. 

She’s asking how he is, how his family is holding up with his new career, and if he’s had the tattoo studio for quite some time. 

Hermione Granger is still as direct yet equally as inquisitive as before. 

She was so genuine in updating herself with how Viktor Krum has been for the past five years. 

They used to regularly exchange emails, then texts, and later, instant messages for a time. Then he heard that she was dating Draco Malfoy and eased himself out quietly in respect. 

So now that she was standing in front of him, stretching out her arm so he can inspect her forearm and stick the stencil in, he finds his hands unsure. 

This was probably the closest they’ve been since prom. 

He remembers how magnificent she looked in her purple dress that brushed the floor as they danced through all the songs. 

She was beautiful then, but she was even more breath-taking now. 

Her brown eyes glittered in anticipation and her cheeks gave a natural flush, as if she ran the whole day from one place to another. 

_She’s probably busy all the time,_ Viktor thinks. _She has so much going on for her,_ he thinks proudly. 

It was a slow Wednesday and Viktor knew that Hermione would have obviously skipped work to see him in his shop. 

Not that she wanted to see him, she was never the type to clear her schedule to get a tattoo. 

He’s measuring the stencil on her forearm a second time when she says, “I saw an ad for your tattoo shop on social media and I thought I’d drop by to get my first tattoo. I thought you were studying architecture, Viktor. How was that?” 

Viktor wraps the tape measure across his knuckles. 

“I studied it for two years, dropped out, and then went to art school. Then I realized I wanted to be a tattoo artist full-time so here we are.” He crosses his arms and studies her. 

“You’re getting your first tattoo,” Viktor motions to her stenciled arm. “How are you feeling?” 

“I guess the thought of getting my first tattoo from you is very comforting.” She gives him a reassuring smile and he finds himself smiling back at her. 

* * *

The _bzzt bzzt_ of the needle draws Viktor back to the task at hand. 

“I’m going to start now. Don’t forget to breathe. You can curse and shout at any time, it helps ease the pain. Are you ready, Hermione?” 

She gives a small nod, inhales, and closes her eyes. 

“Let’s do this,” she says. 

It takes about half an hour for him to finish the outline of the feather and after fifteen more minutes of polishing the lines, he stops the machine from buzzing. 

“We’re done,” Viktor says, quite proud of her and still quite confused as to why _this_ happened in the first place. 

Hermione studies her arm which now includes a red feather and says, “It’s beautiful, Viktor! You made it look so dainty!” 

“You know,” she continues, “Feathers have more volume than steel in some instances, well, I mean, it obviously depends on how they’re arranged, but gravitational force dictates that steel is still heavier than feathers.” 

Viktor looks at her, confused. 

“I’m just answering the whole question of, ‘Which is heavier? A kilogram of steel or a kilogram of feathers?’ You’d be amazed at the explanations that people come up with to justify that feathers is the answer.” 

She looks outside the shop window where both of them can see the corner shops and busy pedestrians. 

“So why a feather?” Viktor finally asks. 

“There is a slight fraction of time wherein feathers can actually weigh more than steel. But given external factors, like gravity, there really isn’t much of a difference. How interesting, right? You’d take things at face value and call one heavier than the other, but there’s really only a slight difference,” she says without missing a heartbeat. 

“That’s the long answer.” Hermione continues. “The short answer is that people take things as they are all the time that they forget the margin of error which can lead to the event of something actually surprising them if they just took time to think hard enough.” 

Viktor puts down the equipment he was clearing up and looks at her one more time. 

“People always try to limit other people into a box that they pre-built for them.” He starts. “My parents thought that I was throwing away their money and my future by pursuing tattoo art, but it took me years and years of practice and skill to show them that I can support a living and maintain a name for myself while doing something that I love. Graduating from university isn’t the end-all and be all of things. You just have to follow your heart sometimes.” 

Hermione pays for her tattoo, writes her new number on a piece of paper, and tells Viktor that it would be nice to see him again. 

In a few days, he texts her to ask how her tattoo is healing and if she’s been doing the aftercare instructions that he told her. 

They end up in a coffee shop near his studio one afternoon. 

Hermione called, telling him that her cat, Crookshanks, scratched a portion of her tattoo and _oh, Viktor, it’s ruined now, isn’t it_? 

He told her that he can see her the day after to check the damage. 

Luckily, the scratch was only superficial and would heal after the scabbing stage. 

He tells her this but it doesn’t seem to pacify her. 

“What else can I do? Do I put a special type of cream on it? I know you let your clients do dry healing but Viktor, is there something else I can do?” 

He tells her that she can pop back in his studio after two weeks and he can retouch the tattoo if need be. 

This seemed to alleviate Hermione’s worry about her tattoo. 

Viktor waits for a text or call from her but she doesn’t come back after two weeks. 

In fact, after two months, when her tattoo was supposed to completely heal, Hermione Granger never stepped back into his tattoo studio. 

He figures that the cat scratch wasn’t much of a problem in the first place. 

* * *

They cross paths once again sometime at the end of March. 

The bell dings in his tattoo studio and she’s there, as if nothing happened. 

He’d like to think that she looks apologetic, that she’s realized that a simple text would have sufficed a few months ago. 

“I’m really sorry, Viktor. I knew I should have updated you about the situation. I got called out of town for a business meeting and things have just been so hectic. But that’s no excuse for what I did to you. I’m sorry.” 

Viktor Krum has always had a soft spot for Hermione Granger. 

Before he got a chance to see her in a fancy purple dress during prom, he knew he could have seen countless other girls in the same dress. But all things considered, he knew it was only Hermione that he’d want to slow dance with on the dance floor. 

After his rugby games, he would always look at the bleachers for Hermione. She’d always be there, smiling happily at him with so much pride he thought he won the world every time. 

“It’s alright. I know you’re busy. Maybe, send a short text my way next time?” He says, knowing that he couldn’t possibly be mad at her anymore. 

She gets a second tattoo. 

After an hour, she walks out with a red otter at the small of her back. 

She said that her cat would definitely be unable to reach it this time and _Viktor, would you like to get some coffee tomorrow?_

In the rush of things, he forgets to ask her if she’s building dams now or some shit. 

_Why an otter, Hermione?_

On second thought, it was best to have not asked that. 

What a dumb question. 

He wouldn’t want her to think he didn’t know why. 

They spent that lazy afternoon in the local aquarium together when they were juniors in high school. 

She loved the dolphins, the whales, but the otters were her favorite. 

They took half an hour there—she wouldn’t stop giggling at every single thing the raft of otters did. 

“They’re so cute, Viktor! Look at that one,” she would say almost every five minutes. 

Hermione Granger rarely took time off to look at the simple things in life. 

But during one of the rare times she did, Viktor Krum was beyond the moon that she decided to spend it with him. 

* * *

The coffee dates turned into brunches and eventually, they settled into a routine. 

Saturday brunch, then movies in the afternoon. 

By dinnertime, they’d both be in the kitchen cooking some one-pot meal so that they wouldn’t have to wash too many dishes after. 

“What do you call this again?” Viktor asks. 

Hermione found a recipe book in one of the old bookshops near Viktor’s apartment and decided to bring it that day. 

Viktor was glad to see that she still spent an absurd amount of time browsing through bookshops and an even more absurd amount of time reading whatever she’s purchased. 

_“Arroz con pollo._ It’s Spanish for—,” Hermione starts but gets interrupted. 

“Chicken with rice. I remembered it when you were explaining the history of the dish to me.” He smooths his shirt for no reason, unsure of where to put his hands. 

He wants to apologize for interrupting but he’s still just as amazed at how many things she knows about the world—how she lets him into the maze she’s built for herself inside her mind. 

She’s beautiful now, more than ever. 

Viktor couldn’t help but keep himself from smiling. 

“Is something wrong, Viktor? I hope I didn’t add too much _adobo_ powder. The recipe said…oh maybe I misread it! It’s too salty, isn’t it?” 

Sometimes, Hermione worries too much. 

_How can she be so unsure of some things when she’s smarter than half of the population?_ Viktor thinks. 

Viktor snaps out of his thoughts when he realizes that Hermione Granger has seen him smiling dumbly at himself. 

Well, smiling _because of_ her. 

But not dumbly, anyone would smile like a fool when they’re seated in front of Hermione Granger. 

“Nothing, nothing.” He’s too embarrassed to explain the reason for his smile. She should know, but he’s too embarrassed to tell her that after all these years, it’s her. It’s always been her. 

“How’s your tattoo healing?” Viktor tries to save himself. 

She lightly touches her forearm and then careens over her shoulder to quickly look at the small of her back that’s showing from under her shirt. 

“The otter tattoo is scabbing. That’s the most awful part! I keep thinking that I’ve ruined it from tossing around in bed but it’s just part of the whole process, right? It’s going to be all healed after, won’t it?” 

She stops, then looks at Viktor who was still smiling dumbly at her. 

It wasn’t fair to him, all of this. 

Not when the candles illuminate her face and she’s talking about the two things that he’s given to her. Not when his hand is so close to hers that he wants to finally know what it’s like to hold her. Not when he’s so sure of how he feels, but at such a loss at how to tell her even the slightest bit of it. 

“Hermione.” 

He starts. He should do this, right now, more than ever. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His world stills. She’s smiling so brightly, he can feel his chest explode. 

She leans over, never removing her eyes from his. 

Viktor Krum has waited his whole life for this. 

So he takes time to brush his thumb against her jaw, the apples of her cheeks, below her brow bone, and slowly plants a small kiss on her forehead. 

“You’re the most beautiful person I know, Hermione. I’m going to kiss you now.” 

The kiss starts slow, like they’re relearning each other—how they were in high school when he moved into the city, knowing no one, but quickly became popular; how all the girls threw themselves at him, but all he knew was that he’d like to get to know Hermione Granger and only her. 

The memories come flooding in. 

Prom, short walks across the field at school, and tutorial sessions at the library because Viktor Krum was never good at math. 

He can calculate risks but was never brave enough to tell Hermione Granger how he felt. 

So now that they’re so close, he can taste and feel her now more than ever, he loses himself in the moment. 

They end up on the couch in the living room, their clothes become forgotten, and their bodies are lost in each other. 

It’s tender, everything about Hermione Granger is beyond everything he imagined it to be. 

* * *

Viktor Krum knows that it was better to be pleasantly surprised than utterly disappointed. 

There she was, lying contentedly beside him and he knew he must have done something right this time. 

It’s not that he even _thought_ that this would happen, he only wanted to kiss her. It was a sliver of hope that he never dreamed of actually becoming a reality. 

He only wanted the little things—to brush his knuckles against hers, possibly envelope his hand over hers, maybe even kiss her forehead. 

It amazes him how he got so close to her. 

She was beautiful then, she was even more radiant now. 

He soon realizes that they’re both naked and the sunlight is rudely making everything too soft and serene that Viktor Krum has to stop himself from falling deeper in love with Hermione Granger than he already was—has always been. 

He measures the risk, he’s at least good at that—not the angles or the area between this or that. He knows that the risk is palpable enough for him to lean closer to her and wrap his arms around her. 

Viktor Krum was ready for free-fall. 

She wakes up slowly, one eyelid opens, then the other. 

Then she gives a small smile, as if they’ve been doing this for longer than a night. 

Hermione traces her finger across Viktor’s bare arms. Across the crumbling Greek bust on his forearm, the colorful samurai portrait on his triceps, and finally, her nail lightly brushes against the blueprint of a magnificent ship on his back. 

She stops there, looking at the expanse of the blue and red ink, the detailed illustrations of the deck and all its other parts, and she looks at him inquisitively. 

“It’s a Spanish galleon ship. Once, it brought gold and glory. But people forget how this majestic vehicle wreaked so much havoc throughout its expeditions.” 

“How did such a beautiful and intricate thing become so horrible?” She asks. 

“People want more than what they deserve,” he starts. “It begins with a small hope—gold for the economy, spices for the rich, later, there’s blood and numerous battles that tear families apart.” He stops then continues, “You later realize that we move because we were destined to travel from one point to another. We’re exactly where we are at the right time, we just have to take things as it is.” 

“So we can stop ourselves from becoming horrible yet beautiful things, is that what it is, Viktor?” 

“Yes. So we can find ourselves as we move from one moment to the other,” he replies. “I lost myself for a while. I guess I’m piecing the pieces together, but _this_ is more than I could have ever asked for.” He looks at her the whole time, unable to hide his emotions from her. She needed to know, anyway. 

She stops him with a kiss before he could say anything else. 

At this moment, Hermione Granger knew she was lost, too—that she forgot to look at who Viktor Krum was to her this whole time: always more than enough. 

The kiss breathed, _I’m here now._

It said, _We were all lost in some way, somehow, somewhere._

It released words like, _Stay. For now._ Stay.

* * *

The weight of things depends on how they are arranged—where they are, what’s standing beside them, or what’s in front of them. 

For Viktor Krum, days with Hermione Granger were light as a feather. 

As he expected it to be. 

As it will always be. 

**Author's Note:**

> [ps maybe consider following me](https://undderwires.tumblr.com/)


End file.
